


Love Today (love, love me)

by markerlimes (sunmi)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, High School AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 22:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4366913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunmi/pseuds/markerlimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson Wang is irresistible. And suddenly the universe thinks so too.<br/>(Except Mark. Mark is still sane, thank fuck.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Today (love, love me)

**Author's Note:**

> CRACK FIC. High School!AU . April fools fic + SUPER SUPER (like half a year) late birthday fic to The One and Only Wang™ The only reason I even finished this is bc e deserves better.
> 
> please do not take this seriously. This fic is, well, fiction, and not intended to harm anyone. title from mika's love today  
> (I'm so sorry GOT7 fandom, I have done you so wrong.)

 

 

 

 

 

Jackson’s nursing a hangover the size of his ego, when the sunlight blinds him at an angle from above the gate. He groans, rubbing knuckles into his temple. From a distance he can hear the school bell chime.

After everything that happened last night (most of which Jackson has no recollection of besides the notion that many BAD DECISIONS™ were made), Jackson’s surprised that he’s even alive. Unfortunately for him, being alive means that he still has to make it to first period on time or face another week of detentions at the hands of Ms. Lee.

Or that was the plan, before he’s stopped just past the main gate by the sight of Park Jimin blushing behind her planner, holding it above her face like it blocks her entirely from Jackson’s line of sight. He grins.

Jimin’s adorable, flushing an even deeper red when Jackson gives her a cheeky salute.

“Morning,” he calls, migraine forgotten, and she jolts up in shock.

“G-Good morning!” she waves cheerfully. She bounces on her feet a little, seemingly nervous as Jackson walks over.

“How was your weekend?” Jackson grins. Jimin looks up at him, completely shellshocked and if Jackson weren’t worried about his street cred he would have flat out cooed at the expression on her face.

Suddenly there’s a tug on his arm and Jackson spins around to come face to face with Youngji.

“Jackson!” Youngji beams, unnervingly close. If it weren’t for her fast and ready grip on his arm Jackson's sure he would have fallen straight on his ass. "How are you?"

Jackson just stares.

Youngji, Heo Youngji - first chair viola of the honors orchestra, homecoming queen, and varsity cheerleader - Youngji is waving at him. Not just waving, looking at Jackson like he’s a Jonas Brother descending from the stage in the early 2000s. Probably Nick, not that Jackson is familiar with the Jonas Brothers or anything, but if he had to be one of them at the height of their fame, he’d probably be Nick Jonas.

Actually. Forget the Jonas brothers, Jackson's a real rockstar or something as he finds himself suddenly swarmed with girls pushing what look like Japanese bento boxes in his face.

“Senpai,” a girl with thick glasses wails in front of him, producing a love letter to tuck into his arms. Jackson is a hundred percent sure he’s never seen her before. She’d probably transferred to their school just last week.

The side of the concrete wall digs into his back and Jackson can barely feel his arm anymore from how tightly Youngji keeps tugging at him.

This is getting a little weird, but he plays it all off with a disarming smile.

“Ladies, ladies,” he says with a chuckle, flipping the hair from his eyes. Someone in the crowd faints, falling straight into Jackson’s arms.

She looks dazed, completely hooked on every word as he turns to the jealous crowd who surges forward. Another girl faints, but faceplants onto the ground looking disgruntled as she sits up Jackson-less.

Jackson can’t do anything about it, sadly. His arms are currently very full and any second away from being pried away by Youngji who just keeps smiling that same bright smile of hers.

“Fear not. There’s enough Wang to go around,” he grins into the crowd and just for kicks does the hair flip thing again and sure enough, a few more bodies hit the ground.

 

 

\---

“It’s like they can’t get enough of me,” he crows confidently into the mirror. “It’s taken almost two decades but people have finally seen the light of The Wang™.”

From across the sink Mark just stares at him.

“Mark,” Jackson calls, planting a hand down on the sink in emphasis. “This is huge! I’ve been waiting for months for the right moment to ask Youngji out to prom and out of the blue today, she asked me! And-”

“ _And_?” Mark prompts when Jackson trails off.

“And then she squished her boobs against my arm and said that we should get married soon,” he finishes rather lamely.

Mark just keeps staring at him. As per usual, it’s up to Jackson to fill the silence.

“I don’t know man. I thought it was a pretty good start.”

“I…see,” Mark comments slowly. Mark normally isn’t the fastest thinker, but for this once Jackson can’t blame his friend for failing to connect the dots. It’s honestly a little weird.

“And before you ask,” Jackson interrupts. “It was April Fools a couple of weeks ago. I checked.”

“I didn’t even think about that,” Mark admits honestly. “Are you sure this isn’t some elaborate prank?”

Jackson shrugs, pulling out his phone. “Who cares? Today is April the 28th. Mark it down on your calendar. It’s officially Wang Day™.”

He ends the phrase with a slight flourish, a little put off when Mark doesn’t fill the silence with applause.

“Well,” Mark coughs dryly. “If it’s _really_ Wang Day™, explain to me why you’re hiding out in the bathroom.”

“I’m not,” Jackson counters immediately. He wrings his hands dry on a paper towel and shoots it into the wastebasket.

Swish.

Hell yeah, even the physics gods are on his side today.

“I don’t know,” Mark comments casually. He walks over to the wastebasket to drop his used paper towel in and quirks an eyebrow up at Jackson who hasn’t moved from the sink. “This looks a whole lot like hiding. Look, you’re even retreating back into the bathroom.”

To prove his point, Mark moves over to pull the door to which a dozen camera flashes go off and the sounds of shrieking fill the bathroom.

“It’s not hiding,” Jackson says stiffly, making a 180 back into the stalls. It’s not exactly retreating either if he does it with swag.

 

 

\---

His 15 minutes of fame turns into three straight class periods that turns the entire school’s passing periods into sheer hell. What used to be a three minute walk from History to Biology now takes a solid 20 minutes with gifts and love declarations being tossed at him left and right.

To his side, Mark rolls his eyes and Jackson grins.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Jackson goads, accepting another batch of chocolate with a careless smile.

“Hardly,” Mark sniffs. He snatches a Kit-Kat from Jackson’s bag and inhales it after peeling off the wrapper.

“Not cool dude,” Jackson says pointedly. “Those were gifts for me.”

“And you have like a million more,” Mark replies, reaching out his hand again to snag a Snickers out of Jackson’s grasp.

Jackson has no choice but to admit that Mark's got a point when another bag of Hershey's kisses get dumped in Jackson's straining arms. There's no way Jackson's gonna eat all of these anyways. It's better to let Mark get fat for both of them.

Jackson’s in the middle of dodging a giant hug from a girl who has finally clawed her way through the entire crowd when he bumps straight into Jaebum.

"Sorry man," he says before realizing who he actually bumped into. He puts his fists to his side and puffs out his chest, ready. 4 years ago when this happened, Jackson ended up shoved in a locker with no one to rescue him since Mark had tryouts for varsity swimming that day. It had been a miserable and unbearably stuff two hours, although Jackson can't say he didn't exactly deserve it. Since then Jackson's been hitting the gym and he won't fit in any locker Im Jaebum tries to shove him into. (He's tested it out, stuffing himself in a locker that is.)

Anyways, he and Jaebum are more or less cool now with too many mutual friends to dig up bad blood, but it still doesn't mean that they're any friendlier than usual.

Oddly enough, Jaebum doesn't shove him away, he just peers at Jackson carefully before leaning in to...sniff his hair?

"Woah what?" Jackson jumps back, but by then Jaebum's been replaced by another throng of girls. He shoots Mark a look, but Mark's too busy stuffing his face with Jackson's chocolates to have noticed anything really.

Slowly but surely, he and Mark make their way into the Biology lab where another pile of chocolates are waiting for him. Their teacher even cancels the pop-quiz over organic chemical compounds on account of Jackson's puppy pout. Today is going pretty fucking great so Jackson just takes the strange exchange between him and Jaebum and files it into the giant abyss of "DON'T CARE" in the back of his mind and lets himself bask in the attention of his adoring subjects.

 

 

\---

Lunch hour turns out to be quite the spectacle as the entirety of the school lets him cut to the front of the lunch line.

Jackson can barely lift his lunch tray by the time the lunch ladies are done showering his plate with food on top of food. He peers curiously at his plate. The food even looks edible today. He takes a seat at his usual spot, flabbergasted when the rest of the school hovers around him, quite literally standing in place to eat so they can get a glimpse of him. It's flattering as fuck, but also verging on creepy.

Jackson gives a half-wave from his spot when Bambam latches onto his arm, grip even tighter than Youngji's.

"Hyung! Your wife is here~" he giggles, pushing his nose deep into Jackson's hair. He takes a seat on Jackson's lap, laughing at the jealous glares zooming on them. "We should get married. Today."

"Sure thing Bambam," Jackson laughs back, increasingly concerned as Bambam pulls out his laptop to show him his extensive research on popular honeymoon spots. Jackson glances over his shoulders to see the words- _Caribbean cruise, Paris get away_ and then oddly enough- _Korean boyband concert_ , and scribbled on the side of that- _mum has asked if Rain can preside over the ceremony_ \- all of which is pretty typical behavior for Bambam but what happens next is truly one for the books.

Jackson twists out of Bambam's excited grip with little effort and makes a beeline for the entrance when the crowd converges on him once again.

There's a murmur of unease around them as the crowd parts and sure enough it's Im Jaebum, undisputed Prom King and the only man on campus with enough swag to rival Jackson.  He's carrying his own tray of food, piled high up (he's another favorite of the lunch ladies, but Jackson seems to have won them over by a landslide today if he compares their piles of chicken legs).

Jackson watches him scrutinize the crowd around them before taking a seat right across of Jackson. He squints at Jackson, expression caught somewhere between awe and constipation. Jackson's not sure which one he prefers to be true.

“You can have my chicken leg. It’s the last one.” Jaebum says sincerely and then pauses like he can’t believe that he just offered his mortal arch-nemesis of chicken eating his last precious bite. His hand however keeps going until it plops the last piece of chicken down on Jackson’s plate and then settles itself down on Jackson’s shoulder softly.

“Thanks, bro,” Jackson replies as genuinely thankful as he is confused. Jaebum looks lost as well, but his fingers, slicked with chicken grease, keeps rubbing soothing circles around Jackson’s shoulder.

“Umm,” Jackson vocalizes. Jaebum just keeps smiling vacantly. "Can I feed you? It'll be good I promise. I mean, you swallow it down so well."

Suddenly, Jackson's 100% sure Jaebum's not talking the chicken anymore. He sets the drumstick down, feeling ill.

"Take a bite," Jaebum says sounding concerned. "It's good. I promise. Let me take good care of you."

Jackson makes a mad dash for the entrance, heat creeping onto his face. Bambam’s marriage proposal seems commonplace in light of Jaebum’s generous chicken...donation. He's nearly out the double doors when Bambam appears out of thin air with a pleading look on his face.

“Jackson,” Bambam wails broken-heartedly.

“Oh hey,” Jackson waves back with a smile. His eyes scan the perimeter for escape routes.Bambam continues advancing, the same vacant smile on his lips as before. “You left me in the lunch table. Alone! You better not do this at the altar too!”

"Of course not," Jackson says quickly, feeling the sweat drip down his neck from unease.

“I missed you,” Bambam murmurs, lights sparking in his eyes like some anime shoujo character brought to life and Jackson winces. Mark and his extensive anime dating sim knowledge would know what to do in a situation like this. Not for the first time in his life, Jackson regrets not carrying Mark with him in his pocket.

“Me too,” he fakes, instantly regretting the admission once Bambam lights up even further. "Really?!!"

“Actually,” he amends, but it’s too late. The damage is done. Bambam runs full force into Jackson’s chest, crushing him against the cafeteria wall and smothering objection with affection.

“What I really meant was that I sort of forgot you existed,” Jackson wheezes through the pain.

“I came back though, for you,” Bambam continues excitedly like Jackson hadn't said anything. “We can get married now! I didn't know if you liked Paris or the Caribbean more so I booked both! Let's go!”

Jackson throws his lunch into the nearest trashcan, lamenting Jaebum’s beloved last piece of chicken and bolts out of the cafeteria to the sound of Bambam’s continued wailing.

“Wait, hyung, come back! I love you!!"

 

 

\---

Jackson's breathing hard, panting by the time he finds somewhere relatively safe- a supply closet- to duck into. Only it turns out that safe is a _very_ strong word.

He laughs, half-giddy from the flight when he notices that Jinyoung, Park Jinyoung, who sits three rows in front of Jackson in English Honors and has all the right answers to all the fucking tests, is in the tiny supply closet with him.

“Jackson!” he waves like this kind of thing happens every single day. "What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Jackson says. "I think I got lost. I'm actually just gonna leave now and-"

Jinyoung is fast, his hand latching onto Jackson's wrist and jerking him away from the door. "Not so fast."

"I need to pee," Jackson lies through a grin. "Like really badly."

"I can help you with that," Jinyoung says seriously and Jackson's mind blanks out because, _what the fuck?_

He's about to bust the hell out of there when Jinyoung breaks into a smile, laughing heartily. "Oh my god, you should have seen your face. Are you into that kind of thing?"

"No," Jackson says immediately, but on the inside his thoughts sound more like: _with you, yeah maybe?_

Jinyoung keeps smiling, perfectly chershire as he leans forward to whisper against Jackson's ear. "Do you wanna know what I'm into?"

"Not really?" Jackson replies weakly. His legs feels like jelly with their proximity and how he actually sort of needs to pee now from fear.

“I just wanna write poetry about your thighs,” Jinyoung whispers and yeah, on any other day Jackson would be so into this. Jinyoung is hot, almost as hot as Jackson, but right now he’s kind of terrifying, eyes vacant and boring holes into Jackson’s pelvis in a completely unsexy way.

“That’s good,” Jackson placates, sliding against the wall away from Jinyoung’s mesmerized gaze. Jinyoung slides with him, hooking a finger into the belt loop of his jeans and stopping him in his tracks with a leer.

“You know what’s even better?” Jinyoung whispers huskily. He pulls at the hem of Jackson’s shirt, tickling the edge of Jackson’s navel with a stray finger. “If you let me paint my face with your come, that would be so artistic.”

“OKAY!” Jackson shouts, pushing Jinyoung back. He turns to leave and stumbles over the boxes beneath his feet. “That’s enough!”

Jinyoung pouts back, grip suddenly as solid as handcuffs- which is a terrible simile because that's really the last thing Jackson wants to think of in the context of him and Jinyoung.

He scours the room for witnesses, looking for some sort of hidden camera, but there’s only Jinyoung, making bedroom eyes at him and licking his lips in a very 19+ way that would normally send Jackson fumbling for his belt.

Repeat after me- Jackson Wang is not a virgin, but he feels oh so very innocent in comparison to Jinyoung who quite literally prowls across the floor to knead his hands into Jackson's thighs.

Suddenly Jackson feels grounded. He's got a plan. If there's a will there's a will.

“Hey you know what?” Jackson says. His voice sounds pitched, squeaky and so un-swaggy that it doesn't even sound like him. “How do you feel about getting tied up?"

 

 

\---

After properly tying Jinyoung up with as much duct tape he could find in the supply closet and leaving him for the janitor to find, Jackson bolts across the hallway. He makes it as far as the gym entrance before getting stopped for running in the halls by the hall-monitor who turns out to be none other than Ms. Lee.

"Well, well," she says, looking down at her nails. They're pitch black today. Jackson swallows, hard- mind flitting through all the strange vampire rumors surrounding Lee Sunmi, and tries his hardest not to cry.  "What do we have here?"

Before he has the chance to answer, Sunmi unbuttons the top button of her blouse and shoots him a pointed look. From this angle, Jackson can see the lace of her bra and wonders if he’s breaking any laws like this. Dead-eyed and sexy is Sunmi’s regular charm, but it seems even stronger today. Jackson makes a mental note to check for the full moon tonight, assuming he survives for that long anyways.

“Do you understand me?” Sunmi asks quietly.

“Yes ma’am,” Jackson nods, slowly and then vigorously as Sunmi continues to glare at him.

“I want you,” she whispers seductively. “In the detention halls with me after school. Alone.”

“Yes…ma’am,” Jackson swallows. There are windows in the detention room. What's a few broken bones anyways?

He's about to plead for mercy when Mark turns the corner and catches his eye. Jackson watches his best friend take a few steps back at the sight of Sunmi half-undressed and pressed up against Jackson.

"Jackson?" he calls out and Sunmi pulls back like she's been burned. Maybe Mark is made of garlic. Jackson swears that if he survived this encounter, he'd eat garlic every day, hell he'd even worship it too. He'd join the Orthodoxy of Garlic and swear himself to a life of celibacy while he's at it- the whole nine yards.

"That's not how detention works, Jackson," Sunmi says plainly, but she's too slow when Mark grabs his arm and drags them both the hell out of there.

 

 

\---

"What the fuck?" Mark says hollowly the minute they've escaped into the stairwell. "Wait no. But yeah, _what_ the fuck?"

"I don't know," Jackson wails, sinking down to sit on the steps. Mark pulls him quickly back on his feet. "Today was going so great. I was being liked."

"I don't think that's exactly stopped," Mark points out. "If anything they just like you a little too much."

"A little?" Jackson blanches. "What did I do to deserve this? Help me fix this Mark, oh my god what if it can't be fixed."

Mark shrugs, reassuring as ever, but his expression turns a shade thoughtful. "Hey, what exactly did you do?"

"I don't know," Jackson whines. "I was too drunk to remember, but I-"

"You were drunk," Mark says, cutting in. He lunges towards Jackson patting down the back of his pants. "Give me your phone!"

"What the hell?" Jackson yelps. "Personal space dude." Mark holds up his phone triumphantly and types in Jackson's 4 digit password by heart. Jackson's own birthday, duh.

"What gives man?" Jackson grumbles, confusion fading into recognition as Mark starts flipping through his photos. "Don't look at those."

"Ive already seen all of these," Mark counters, eyebrows rising higher and higher into his bangs. "Wait no. This one is new. Who is she?"

"Forget about that," Jackson groans, grinding his palms into his eyesockets. Today sucks.

Mark lets out a sudden exclamation, tapping Jackson excitedly on the shoulder. "Look here."

"Holy shit," Jackson says. Mark is 90% laziness and 10% genius and it's all Jackson's luck that today is the day that Mark's splurged his year's worth of genius.  "Mark you're a genius."

They dig through the photos one by one, piecing the weekend's events together shameless drunken selfie by shameless drunken selfie.

It starts off normal enough. Jackson with a red cup. Jackson with a red cup looking tipsy. Jackson with a girl with another red cup looking as red as his cup.

But then the photos take a turn for the weird. Jackson and Mark. Jackson and Mark taking shots. Jackson and Mark outside. Jackson and Mark in matching tanktops. (Jackson has no recollection of changing clothes at all). Jackson leaning in on Mark, the photo angle taking an unflattering image of his double chin as he's slumped into Mark's chest.

  
"Umm," Mark vocalizes. His brain is still processing three photos behind. "When did we go outside?"

"Don't remember," Jackson admits, fingers flipping to the next photo. "Do you?"

"Nope," Mark sighs. He stares at the next photo. "Wait is that at the park?"

"The park?" Jackson echoes. "The one with...the fountain?"

"Yeah," Mark nods. "The voodoo fountain that kids used to pee in before they mysteriously disappeared and then the city closed it down." He pauses. "Jackson...did you?"

"Wait. Hold up. How do you even know all that?" Jackson blanches. "Of all things. Really Mark?"

Mark raises his hands defensively. "I like mysteries okay, but you, why the hell would you pee in a voodoo fountain?”

“I was drunk!” Jackson defends. “Like really drunk. You were too."

"But I didnt pee!" Mark shouts. His last word echoing down the stairwell in a sort of trance _\- pee. pee. pee._

"God I hope no one heard that," Jackson says slowly. "Let's get out of here."

"No. We need to go find the fountain," Mark decides, like this is some Indiana Jones adventure. Jackson can only nod because this thing has been completely out of his control from the beginning.

"What's the plan?"

 

 

\---

There's no way Jackson can just waltz out the front door, but the beauty of having Mark with him is that Mark can. It's just a lot of hard work getting them both safe and sound outside of the school grounds.

Jackson follows the force of Mark’s arm pulling them both behind the corner. Footsteps approach them louder and louder, to the point Jackson can hear it over the hammering of his own heart.

Mark somehow looks just as terrified, flinching when a shadow casts itself across the tips of their sneakers.

"Shit," Jackson hisses. "What do I do? What do I do-"

Mark saves him the effort of both thinking and moving.

In one moment Jackson is doomed, ready to face his judgement, and the next he's on the floor as Mark shoves him unceremoniously into the gym storage closet and slams the door behind him. Luckily a pile of gym equipment breaks his fall, but the cushioning does nothing for Jackson's terrified nerves as he lies in the dark, breathing hard and petrified. He imagines the stampede of angry students, all of them wanting a piece of The Wang™.

“False alarm,” Mark says a moment later, peeking back into the closet at Jackson tangled between the looking a little too gleeful.

“Not funny,” Jackson groans from beneath the pile of jump ropes. It’s gonna take them forever to untangle Jackson from here and god knows what can happen in that window of time.

“Sorry man,” Mark apologizes, still looking too smug for Jackson’s tastes. “Lemme go find some scissors or something.”

“Wait. Wait!” Jackson yells. “Don’t leave me here.”

“That’s why I’m going to get scissors,” Mark says placatingly. “It’s okay. I’ll be right back.”

He swings the door shut and leaves Jackson lying in the dark, completely vulnerable and jesus, what if Jinyoung appeared to get his revenge. It would serve Jackson right, wouldn't it?

The door swings open suddenly to reveal a large figure that is most definitely not Mark. Jackson curls himself into the smallest ball possible and squeezes his eyes shut. A long moment passes and nothing actually, happens.

Jackson opens his eyes slowly to the sight of Yugyeom peering at him, confused.

“Oh my god Yugyeom,” Jackson breathes, his heart still hammering. “You scared the living shit out of me.”

Jackson leans back against the wall, increasingly aware of the soft smile on Yugyeom’s face. He slowly inches his way towards the door, like a jump rope cocooned caterpillar.

“Sorry hyung,” he apologizes cutely. “I really didn’t mean to. I was just too distracted-”

_Don’t finish that sentence_ , Jackson thinks profusely. _Don’t do it. Don’t you fucking dare-_

“By you,” Yugyeom sighs dreamily and the back of Jackson’s head hits the wood from the force of which Mark opens the door.

“Hi Yugyeom!" Mark says brightly, slashing through Jackson's binds in a smooth stroke with something that looks like a really sharp ruler. It's one of those days Jackson has learned that it's better not to ask sometimes.

"Hi hyung!" Yugyeom smiles brightly. No longer staring at Jackson. "Why are you two hiding in the gym closet and why is Jackson tied up...?"

"It's a long story," Mark says and yeah, Jackson doesn't have time to say anything else in his defense before Mark drags him out by the wrist to safety.

 

 

\---

They make "A Plan" that is guaranteed to work because there is no "B Plan" either of them can think of on the fly. "A Plan" is pretty solid though, but Jackson just doesn't like the idea of being left alone again and given today's turn of events he's earned the right to be a needy little fucker.

"It'll be okay. Just stay down here," Mark says, sounding miles more excited than he has any right to be considering that this is Jackson's crisis. "I'm gonna go get the car and then you can just make a mad dash for it."

"That," Jackson says. "That sounds pretty good actually."

"See. Told ya this would work out," Mark says, thumping his chest proudly. Jackson doesn't make an effort to point out that the plan hasn't actually happened yet.

He watches Mark's retreating form with bated breath and ducks down behind the trashcans. Five minutes go by. Maybe ten and there's still no sign from Mark.

Jackson realizes belatedly that they never agreed on any sort of signal at all. "Shit," he curses, poking his head out from the safe zone and that's when a small tap lands on his shoulders.

Jackson freezes, turning around slowly. He breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees who it is.

“I wanted to thank you for always helping me with English after class,” Youngjae smiles shyly.

“No problem,” Jackson smiles. Youngjae’s a sweet kid. It’s nice to be appreciated for something so mundane and normal after this morning’s odd twist of events.

“I’m really glad that you’re doing better in the class,” Jackson says, hurriedly. He moves to the side ready to bolt, but Youngjae clearly isn’t done with him.

He twists his hands together and lifts his chin to face Jackson head on. “I prepared something for you!” he says meekly and clears his throat.

“That’s really great,” Jackson placates. “But look, I really have to go. I’m going to be late for class-”

“L, is for the way I look at you,” Youngjae belts out on the top of his lungs, blowing away Jackson’s eardrums and cover all in one verse.

“O, is for the only one, I see,” he continues melodically as Jackson moves to hush him up, but it’s too late.

“Oh my god,” Jackson hears someone exclaim from behind them. “Is that Jackson over there?”

“I want to serenade him too!” another voice, definitely male, giggles. Jackson feels the cold sweat drip down his back as Youngjae continues obliviously into the next verse, swaying cutely back and forth with the lyrics.

“V, is very very-”

“Youngjae shut up. Please oh my god shut up.” Jackson wails and Youngjae beams at him, so cute and utterly unaware of how he's basically ruined Jackson's life.

If he ever does realize, Jackson doesn't stick around long enough to find out. He grabs the bag off the ground and dashes out the double door where freedom and hopefully Mark and his car await.

 

 

\---

True to the "A Plan", Mark is outside sitting in his little Toyota Camry and fiddling with the radio.

"Oh hey," he says as Jackson nearly rips off the passenger door. "You're late."

"How was I supposed to know you were already here waiting?" Jackson pants, dumping his bag in the back seat.

"I didn't want to honk. It would have drawn attention to you," Mark mumbles intelligently. His eyes widen at the sight of the crowd bursting through the double doors in the wake of Jackson's escape. "Holy shit."

"I know," Jackson twists his head around and does a quick count. "Just fucking drive. Drive, please drive."

Mark slams down on the pedal, engine roaring to life. He skins the edge of the curb and Jackson watches between the cracks of his fingers to see if any cars follow them out. The last thing he wants to do is start a city wide car chase and while Mark is a good driver, he's not Jackson's first choice stunt man in what might soon become Fast and Furious 8.

He stares behind them for a long five minutes, but the road behind them is empty and Jackson breathes out a sigh of relief.

"You know what?" Jackson starts. Mark tilts his head, his way of saying- _I'm listening._ "Today sucks."

“Wait really? I thought Jaebum was just being nice to you,” Mark teases with a slight laugh. “You know, giving you his last piece of chicken and everything.”

“That was before he went all dominant alpha wolf and 50 shades of Jaebum on me,” Jackson groans.

“God,” Mark says mutely. “I don’t even want to think about that.”

“All I know is that Jaebum and Jinyoung probably have some really freaky sex that involves sugar daddy roleplaying and that’s just about all I ever want to know about the two of them together,” Jackson says quickly.

"Wow," Mark says. The wheels in his head are spinning, Jackson can tell. "That's terrible. Like bad fanfic kind of terrible."

"Tell me about it," Jackson huffs and turns up the radio some more.

 

 

\---

They regroup for supplies and snacks at Mark's house, which Mark swears is completely devoid of people, but is clearly not the truth when Jackson takes his shoes off and discovers Mark's dad sitting in the kitchen reading the news.

"Oh my god, Mark," he hisses, but Mark has already dashed into his own room to grab supplies for their trip to the park. Mr. Tuan rises to his feet and makes his way over to the living room, ever the host.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Mark’s father laughs, which is utter bullshit because Jackson was just here last week kicking Mark’s ass at Super Smash Bros game. “You’ve grown up well. Really well.”

“Haha yeah,” Jackson laughs back, increasingly aware of how small the Tuan’s living room is. It’s never hit Jackson before, outside of the few Jackie Chan films he watches, to think about how painful it must be to throw himself out the window, but given the current circumstances he actually really might have to.

It’s absurd. Everything is absurd because now even Mark’s dad is here smiling at him like Jackson is his own prized son. Maybe it's an innocent smile and Jackson is just going paranoid from all that's happened today.

But if Jackson has learned anything from today it's that he can never be too paranoid.

“How have you been?” Mark’s dad continues, taking a seat across for Jackson. He leans far across the midpoint of the table to stare at Jackson intently.

“Umm,” Jackson squeaks, appealing to hospitality customs. “Good. Mr. Tuan, uh, could I have some tea?”

“Of course!” he chortles in reply, springing off the table. Jackson lets out a breath. “Anything for my son’s best friend!”

Mr. Tuan goes back into the kitchen to boil some tea, whistling something that sounds suspiciously like the tune to Stacy’s Mom.

Jackson swallows.

“Mark,” he whispers urgently into the hallway. “Mark?”

“What?” Mark’s head pops back out from his room. He’s got a dufflebag stuffed with Chocopies in one hand and a choice of three different snapbacks in the other. He separates the snapbacks to show Jackson who nods in approval to the second one.

“Thanks man,” Mark nods, pocketing the second snapback before turning back to Jackson. “What’s up?”

“I don’t. Feel. Safe,” Jackson says, deadly clear. “What? How?” Mark asks, shoving a sweater and two more snapbacks into the dufflebag.

“Your dad is,” Jackson starts. He doesn’t know how to not make this sound totally and completely inappropriate.

“My dad? He's here?” Jackson nods. Mark blanches, instantly bolting forwards. “Okay, we’re leaving.”

He grabs Jackson by the wrist and pulls them both out the front door in a blink.

“Bye dad!” he declares loudly as Jackson jams his shoes on his feet, not bothering to lace anything as they both hurry towards the car. “I’m gonna take Mom’s car out for a little bit. I’ll try and be home by supper. Sorry!”

“You’re leaving?” a voice sounds from the kitchen and Jackson nearly bites through his own lips as Mark’s dad comes out wearing some sort of quilted apron with a tea set on hand. “Drive safely!”

Mark turns the engine key so fast, a bit of the plastic nearly snaps off. His foot slams down on the gas pedal for the second time today and then they’re finally safe. The roar of the engine is enough to ease Jackson’s paranoia as he watches the shrinking figure of Mr. Tuan out the back window in relief.

Slowly, Jackson reaches into the dufflebag and pulls out a few snapbacks before settling on the red one. That'll help disguise him for sure. He pulls the hat over his head, feeling more at ease already.

He looks over at Mark, unsure what to say. Mark’s knuckles are still white, gripping the steering wheel like a life line.

“I-,” Jackson starts, thinking of an apology, any sort of apology, but this time it’s Mark that cuts him off.

“Just,” Mark sighs, turning up the radio to Taylor Swift. “Just. Don’t.”

 

 

\---

The fountain sits innocently at the corner of the park when they arrive. It's not that big actually. Jackson watches Mark walk around the perimeter, squinting at the Latin (Jackson thinks it's Latin) inscription around it.

"Now what?" Jackson wonders. "What's it say?"

"No idea," Mark admits. "I don't read Latin." He looks up at Jackson, confused. "Do you?"

"No?" Jackson whines. "I took French remember?"

"Those are kind of related right?" Mark hums. “I don't know man, just pee in the goddamn fountain again."

Jackson stares at him. "You mean, right now?" Mark nods. "In broad daylight?" Another nod. "With you watching me?" 

  
"I mean, I can turn around," Mark says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Do _you_ want to wait any longer? I thought you wanted the curse lifted."

"I do," Jackson counters. "But we don't even know if that'll work. What if I just get double cursed?"

His yell startles a flock of birds out of the tree above them.

“Don’t yell at me man,” Mark shrugs. "I don't read Latin."

Jackson shakes his head, suddenly fearful. What if the power of attraction worked beyond the scope of just the people that knew Jackson. It’d be like a zombie apocalypse, only where everyone was trying to get his dick instead of eat his brain. The result would ultimately be the same, but the former suddenly seems so much more unnerving.

“Yeah, sorry,” Jackson mumbles taking a seat near the edge of the fountain. He’s exhausted.

It’s been a pretty awful, albeit hilarious, Wang Day™- and if Jackson were in a better mood, he’d have a good laugh out of all of this.

  
Mark frowns, deep in thought. Jackson pokes him on the side, hoping to accelerate the process as much as humanly possible. They don't have that long before sunset and nothing good ever happens after sunset. Jackson's watched one too many horror movie to know what'll happen by then.

“I think I read something like this before in my 8th grade English class,” Mark says softly.

“So what happens?” Jackson pleads. “How did they fix it in the story?”

“I don’t really remember,” Mark admits sheepishly. “I fell asleep a lot in that class.”

“Marrrrk,” Jackson groans into his hands. “I’m going to die like this. I’m going to die so loved that people crush the air from my lungs and trample over my dead body until I die.”

“If they trample your dead body aren’t you technically already dead?” Mark points out after a long stretch of silence.

“That’s not the point!” Jackson says miserably. The snapback on his head droops with him like a matching mood-item. Mark droops down too to match Jackson’s height, patting a hand of condolence on his shoulder.

They sit like that for a while until Mark suddenly straightens up, a gleam in his eye.

“Kiss me,” Mark says firmly, standing up to his full height. He puffs out his chest like the personification of an epiphany. “You have to kiss me.”

“Oh god,” Jackson yells into the sky. “Not you too, Mark. I can’t handle this.”

“No,” Mark argues hotly. He takes a step forward which results in Jackson scooting back a solid six.

It’s not that Jackson doesn’t like Mark, or even like him like _that_. He’s just been traumatized one too many times in the span of less than 24 hours, and to have Mark of all people- Jackson’s last pillar of sanctuary suddenly spring this on him is too cheap, nearly sacrilegious.

“I’m not going to kiss you!” Jackson yells hysterically. “I can’t believe you would do this to me. Did you bring me here so that you would have less competition? Have you been baiting me this whole time?”

“Just listen to me,” Mark answers patiently. Jackson’s suddenly aware of how close they’ve been standing the whole time and how nice Mark’s lips look in general. “I just remembered something! I think I was awake for this part of the story. All we have to do is-”

He takes another step forward and Jackson twists back, ready to run when his knee hits the raised pavement and he splashes head first into the demonic fountain. The water hits him like a cold shock, soaking through his clothes and Jackson thinks for a second that this is nicest change of pace he’s had all day.

The headache plaguing him all day magically disappears and for the briefest moment the world goes white.

Nothing supremely magical happens, not like the first time. Jackson just floats around for a bit, lets the water soak into his body and seal the crown of his head like cold vacuum until he feels Mark’s hand tugging him by the wrist and knows it’s time to get back up.

  
\---

The police swing by a quarter past 8 to fish them both out of the park and then try to press charges on them for public disturbance. Mark, as it turns out, flipped Jackson over after dragging him out and then left him there to call an ambulence, thinking Jackson might have accidentally hit his head.

In his defense, the PE coaches had been very adamant about not messing up neck injuries and all that, so Jackson at least knows that Mark didn’t leave him there to drown for nothing.

The operator traced the location, took in the noise complaints and sent the police instead.

He’s not wrong, but it’s still a pain in the ass to explain to the police why the two of them are fooling around and playing horse in the remnants of a historical fountain.

“Kids these days,” the guy groans. “Just go home. We’ll let you off with a warning.”

“Thank you officer,” Mark bows, grimacing slightly at the mention of home. Jackson shrugs reveling in the refresh feeling of obscurity.

“So am I free?” Jackson says outloud in wonder. He raises a hand to the sky, examining the back of his hand with skepticism.

“I’d say so,” Mark begins. “None of the police officers looked like they wanted to jump your ass.”

“Too soon man,” Jackson grimaces. “Too soon.”

Mark laughs, easy and casual like he hadn’t spent the entire afternoon in the strangest real life example of the Twilight Zone. The corner of his mouth quirks up as he raises a brow at Jackson.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks, poking at Jackson’s arm in concern as Jackson just keeps staring. “Don’t tell me you passed the voodoo magic to me.”

“Nah,” he says. “I’m just wondering how you managed to dodge this whole mess. I mean, I’m glad you did cause I probably would have died without you here, but, I just want to know how..."

“How what?” Mark draws out, genuinely confused. Jackson huffs in a breath.

“How did you survive the voodoo magic all day without wanting to jump my bones?” he asks honestly.

“Says who I don’t?” Mark goads.

_It’s a joke. It’s just a joke bro,_ Jackson thinks furiously, too relieved by the breaking of the curse to dig too deep into the implications of the whole day.

“Too soon, man,” Jackson grumbles, a little pleased all the same. “The Wang™ is taking an absence of leave, I’ve had enough for today.”

A not so very small part of him hopes that the magic of the voodoo fountain would wipe everyone’s minds clean in the same fashion of how germ-x kills 99.99% of all germs. Jackson’s pretty sure he could survive the .01% of residual embarrassment so as long he gets to keep Mark at his side through it all.

He stretches upwards, massaging the back of his neck. “Let’s go home.” Behind him, Mark goes as stiff as a board.

“My home,” Jackson amends quickly. There are perks to being an international student- namely a completely empty apartment that normally makes Jackson feel horrifically lonely, but sounds like heaven in the aftermath of Wang Day™ .

Mark nods, color returning to his face. He slings an arm around Jackson’s shoulder, easy and tight as they make their way back to the car.

  



End file.
